


Freefall

by StormyNightStories



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, F/M, Loss, Protective Connor, Protective Hank Anderson, Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Theft, red ice is bad mkay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyNightStories/pseuds/StormyNightStories
Summary: "I'm only humanI make mistakesI'm only humanThat's all it takesTo put the blame on me..."Human - Rag'n'Bone Man





	1. Whiskey and Blame

_Tonight will be the end for me._

 

Your life wasn’t destined for much at this point. Everyone you had ever considered family was gone. You clutched a photo in your trembling fingertips, your other hand burnt a cigarette while you reminisced.

 

You thought about every evil you committed. Every life you took to save one. _Fuck._ Were they even really alive?

 

Decimating and destroying androids for that sweet, sweet thirium. Thirium that would be used for drugs. Acetone, lithium, thirium, toluene, and hydrochloric acid. Those magical ingredients in the right doses would make red ice. It was on the rise lately. Police were so focused on catching deviants they didn’t care much about drugs anymore, it seemed.

 

_“Please miss, I want to live.”_

 

You recalled that poor broken deviant that went missing, and was unlucky enough to be found by you. His voice wavered, his eyes pleaded with you. Jesus, his fucking eyes. You scrunched your face and dug your hand in his into his broken chest, gripped that pulsating, cold biocomponent, and ripped out his Thirium pump.

 

_“I’m so sorry.”_

 

He clutched the air and shut down shortly after, the pump cold and wet in your hand, with the acrid smell of Thirium wafting into your nose.

 

_They truly were alive._

 

You had no other choice, it was them or Elliot. You would choose your nephew every time. 

 

You placed the slightly wrinkled photo of yourself and your nephew on an outdoor table of your balcony. The 15th floor would be high enough, you thought.

 

You poured yourself a glass of whiskey, and downed it in two gulps and a sigh, with a wipe to your lips.

 

Elliot. He was all you had left, his parents were addicts who were put away when he was a toddler, and suddenly you were his caretaker. Elliot’s parents (your brother and his girlfriend) had a lot of debt to all the wrong people. You were expected to make up for it.

 

Elliot was the reason you did all of this. If you didn’t, they promised he would be eliminated. They offered protection for your cooperation. You complied, collecting Thirium in anyway you could. Kill androids, steal from CyberLife, raid junkyards.

 

You were low-level personnel at CyberLife. High enough to have access to the materials, but also high enough for them to know if too much went missing. You made up for the low quota by supplementing with murder and scavenging.

 

You kept Elliot in the dark about all of this. He never needed to know. You just wanted him to have the semblance of a normal childhood.

 

Despite all your dirty deeds, your compliance, and the promise of your nephew’s safety, he still died. A rival gang to the one you worked for found where you lived, and tried to rob you of any supplies and Thirium you had. The leader of your gang was at your home collecting and opened fire on the thief, bullets were exchanged, and Elliot was in the crossfire.

 

He died in your arms, his little hands holding you tightly.

 

_“Auntie…”_

 

You buried him today. There was void in the house and in your soul. His blood still stained the hardwood floor. You couldn’t bring yourself to scrub it yet. You wouldn’t have to anyway.

 

_Tonight I’ll take my life. I took so many that didn’t deserve it. Time to balance the tables._

 

You took a final puff on your cigarette before ashing it under your shoes. You held the photo of yourself and Elliot. His toothy grin, laughing, carefree. You looked happier too, ruffling his mess of hair.

 

He needed you and you failed. If you were honest, you needed him too, if not more.

 

You kissed the photo and held it to your heart, tears dripping from your cheeks.

 

You climbed onto the balcony rail, letting then wind of the city chill the tears on your cheek.

 

“Y/N?” You heard a gentle man’s voice from behind you but you didn’t turn around or say anything. “Y/N can you hear me?”

 

You sighed, frustrated. “Yeah, yeah I can hear you.” Your words were slurred but understandable. “I bet you’re here to talk me down.” Your laugh was laced with venom. You turned around, sitting on the edge of your balcony casually. “I bet you’re here to tell me that I have _so much_ to live for, and that people would miss me, blah, blah, blah...” You trailed off.

 

There were two people there with you. An older, greying man with an unkempt beard, and his android counterpart. The android had a very angular face with a softness around the eyes, and “RK800” emblazoned on the front of his jacket. His hair was perfectly combed aside from an unruly curl that escaped to the side of his forehead.

 

The gruff older man spoke now, in a low tone. “You’ve been through hell today. You were put on a risk watchlist, we came to see how you were doing. Why don’t you come down and we’ll talk.”

 

You laughed, almost maniacally, tears still spilling onto your cheeks. “Hell _today?_ Try the last 6 months, buddy. What’s your name anyway?” You took a swig directly from the bottle this time.

 

“You can call me Hank, this is Connor.”

 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Well, well. This is some serious irony,” you joked darkly pointing an intoxicated finger at Hank. “I know all about you, Lieutenant, you’re the leader of the red ice task force. And you!” Another shaky finger at the android. “You’re the deviant hunter turned deviant. Tell me. Do you know what I’ve done?” There was a demented, haunted smile across your lips as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.

 

“We know you’ve had a part in the development of red ice, yes.” Connor chimed in. “We also know you’ve just lost your nephew who was used as blackmail to make you do those things. You’re not culpable, (y/n).”

 

A dark heat boiled up in your gut. “I’m not culpable?! It’s not that fucking simple! Did you know I’ve murdered, Connor? I’ve killed your kind in cold fucking blood!” Your hands were shaking, clenching your precious picture in your fingertips. You noticed Connor look at the picture in your fingertips intently.

 

“You didn’t have a choice.” Hank spoke pleadingly in a voice that was gruff but understanding. There was a tense pause as you began to relax.

 

You looked at the older man. "Have you ever buried a child, Hank?" 

 

He looked stricken, but answered quietly. "Yes, I have." 

 

You drunkenly swayed, looking down at the bottle of whiskey. "I didn't know they made coffins so small." 

 

Hank swallowed hard, his tired eyes pleading with you. “Elliot wouldn’t want you to die, (y/n)”

 

“But I do.” Your voice was barely a squeak. In your hysteria you didn’t notice that they were inching closer to you. “I don’t have anything else to live for. I'm sorry you had to be here for this.” You looked down at Elliot in your hand, that toothy smile would be the last good thing you had.

 

Without further thought, you fell backwards, letting air and gravity take you to your fate. You heard a shout of “fuck!” and your hair ruffling in the wind briefly before your head hit hard brick, and you felt rough hands dig into your ankles.

 

Darkness closed in.

 


	2. Everything Beautiful is Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He put out his smoke and proceeded  
> Toward the lake repeating to himself  
> Everything beautiful is far away."
> 
> \- Granddaddy

_ You held his small, fragile body in your hands, his small frame splayed across your lap. His chest was open, a heart beating inside. Blood was everywhere, but it was blue. That acidic smell permeated everything around you and flowed in the dark room.  _

 

_ “Auntie…” Elliot pleaded, “I want to live.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry.” You whispered, as your hand plunged into his chest, grasping his Thirium pump. _

 

_ You heard his strangled cries, before he was no more. _

 

You jolted awake, a weak scream escaping your lips. You clutched the sheets around you in a death grip. 

 

You took in your surroundings, your heart pounding. Clearly a hospital.  A heart monitor beeped melodically to your left, slightly elevated. Your head throbbed, but you were unsure if this was because you fell, or your hangover. Probably both.

 

“You had a nightmare.” You looked to your right. The android, Connor, was seated next to you. “I would suspect that is not unusual, considering your experiences.” He wasn’t wearing his RK800 jacket, instead he donned a leather one and jeans with a beanie. 

 

“Very astute of you.” You snarked. 

 

“Thank you.” He said, completely unaware of your sarcasm. “I thought you should know, you’re currently under heavy sedation and you’re under a 24 hour psychiatric hold for your safety.” He stated bluntly. 

 

You dropped your head back on the hospital pillow gently. “Anywhere is better than there, I can’t go back.” You said quietly, referring to your apartment.  

 

“You don’t have to.” A gruff voice chimed in from the doorway. “You’ll stay with me as long as you need.” It was Hank, leaning against the door frame, his hands in his pockets. 

 

You chuckled. “You have a history of taking in strays?”

 

“Well, there’s my dog Sumo, and this guy.” He pointed at Connor with his thumb.  “So yeah, I guess so. I’m also going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, because you’re going to help us.”

 

You cocked an eyebrow. “I’m going to help you? Is this a joke?” You glanced at Connor hoping for a punchline. 

 

“Nope. Not a joke. As a condition of your release you’re going to be our informant to help us get to the bottom of the surge of red ice in the city.”

 

“And if I refuse?” You asked harshly. 

 

“Then you’ll go to jail, and I don’t think you want want that.” Hank retorted. 

 

Your lips made an angry, hard line. Your eyes stabbed daggers into the old man. “You should’ve just let me die.”

 

Connor glanced at you with a sadness in his eyes. “I know you feel you’ve done horrible things, but you deserve life, (y/n).”

 

You had a hard time believing that. But something about the way he said it, the tone of his voice, those deep, brown eyes, softened your disposition. You sighed, your voice low and deadly. “Neither of you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

 

They didn’t understand that this whole red ice thing ran deeper and darker than you cared to venture, but you had no choice in the matter. This was becoming a running theme in your life, it seemed. 

 

/

 

Your 24 hours were up, and after a quick trip to the Salvation Army, you had few casual outfits to get you by for now. 

 

Those, and your funeral dress. 

 

The three of you arrived at Hank’s home, a quaint ranch in the outskirts of Detroit. None of you spoke much during the drive. As you approached the door, you heard the unmistakable sound of a dog bark, and were met by a mass of slobber and fur, a Saint Bernard.

 

It was the first time you genuinely smiled as you kneeled down. 

 

“This is Sumo. He’s gotten me through hell and back. I hope he can help you do the same.” Hank grumbled. “Listen you two, I have to go to the store, get some food and whatnot. Stay here. And Connor!” 

 

“Yes Lieutenant?” 

 

“Keep an eye on (y/n), got it?” 

 

“Of course.”

 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “ _ Excuse me _ , I’m not a child.” 

 

“Oh no no no, you don’t get to pull that card after you throw yourself of the 15th story of a building.” 

 

You sighed compliantly, and continued scratching behind Sumo’s ear as you sat on the floor. 

 

“Behave, you guys.” Hank mumbled, as he closed the door behind him, into the Detroit rain. It was silent except for Sumo’s panting. You glanced at the door Hank walked out of.

 

“Is he always like that?” You didn’t look at Connor, but you spoke to him as Sumo nuzzled you and rolled over for belly rubs.

 

“You get used to it. He’s… difficult, at times. But he’s a good detective. A good friend too.” 

 

You gave Sumo one last belly rub before standing up and sitting at the kitchen table, with a heavy sigh. “Ah, so he’s one of those ‘tough love’ types.” 

 

“I suppose you could say that.” 

 

There was an overturned picture there. You flipped it over to see a young boy, a cute blond kid with a grin.

 

Connor put his hand on your shoulder, startling you. “That was the Lieutenant’s son, Cole. He died a few years ago.” His voice was soft with empathy in it. It always surprised you how androids could take on such emotions.

 

Hank saying he buried a child wasn’t just some negotiation tactic. He  _ had _ buried a child. Just as you had.

 

You ran your hand over your face, a well of emotions in your gut. Connor crouched down, trying to meet your eyes. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

 

“No,” was all you could muster, turning the picture of the young boy back over. “I don’t know if things ever will be, Connor.” 

 

“Would it be appropriate for me to hug you, in this time of need? I understand your situation is rather distressing.” It was comical, in this dark situation, how formal he was asking. 

 

You chuckled through your tears and stood up, walking over to the couch. You nodded at Connor, inviting him to follow you. You sat down, and he was next to you, looking at you expectantly. 

 

You needed comfort, without judgement. What better company than this stranger? You weren’t sure if he could really judge you, and absolutely no one could judge you harder than yourself right now. You buried your face in his chest, and listened to his Thirium pump, like an artificial heart. It calmed you, and you thought that Connor knew that. 

 

He lightly touched your arm. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He said quietly. You were unsure if that was because of this mission they needed you for, or some other reason.

 

Either way, you were starting to feel like you were glad to be alive too. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoy!  
> Follow me here: http://stormy-night-stories.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Let me know what you think! I had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
> Follow me here: http://stormy-night-stories.tumblr.com


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